


hots for teacher

by w4rl0rd



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, OOF IM SORRY IM NEW TO KAMSKI, i hope this isnt too ooc, its based in 2030!!, no spoilers i guess?? bc its based before the game, so its mayb gonna be a couple chapters but not a series!, this WAS supposed to be a oneshot but i was takin too long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 04:43:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15040973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w4rl0rd/pseuds/w4rl0rd
Summary: You work as a secretary for a company, when you're told to prepare for an esteemed visit from super prestigious CEO of CyberLife, Elijah Kamski.Were your efforts to waste?{female!reader / kamski fic ! based like 8 years before the entirety of d:bh}





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi there!! ill be honest im not kamski's biggest fan so im worried this doesnt sound like him hfjdkls
> 
> pls bear with me
> 
> {{this was done in collaboration with @speedpaintshane on twitter's (suchnatalie on here) complaint that there's no kamski/readers omg i hope this is ok}}

 

Getting ready for work this morning had been, a challenge to say the least.  
The dress-code for where you worked was exclusively, smart. Never anything else. And while you were only the front desk secretary, it was the most important thing for you to _look good_. You were the first thing anyone saw when they walked through the door, the literal embodiment of the company. That's what your boss tried to tell you anyway. 

But today, you were told to prep for an all day visit from the super prestigious, all mysterious CEO for _Cyberlife_ , Elijah Kamski.   
This involved looking your best, knowing the full schedule for the day down to the second, knowing his favourite food and renting out the correct mode of transport and nothing short of. This was all a task you'd been made to do before, but never to this extent. Especially considering there was not more of a cryptic and discreet man out there. The whole week had been spent researching as much as you could in an attempt to find _something_ , anything to appease this growing god of the android world.

 After nearly an hour of back and forth decisions, you went for a fitted button up white shirt with cuffed sleeves and bold black buttons, tucked into a high waisted black pencil skirt that reached just above your knees. You also sported a statement blazer, adding that pop of colour to your otherwise monochromatic ensemble.   
The shirt didn't button all the way to the top, leaving your neck fully exposed. You'd read somewhere that having an exposed neck signified attraction, as it implies a vulnerability. You'd hoped that would help you out today. Unfortunately, the temptation killed you and you just had to adorn a thin, yet effective thin necklace. 

Your makeup remained simple though alluring, your hair also delicately waved and sprayed meticulously into place.   
You'd already showered, partly to clear your head for everything and also to really appear your best, and your day had officially begun.

~  
  
Pulling into work an hour early, you recited what you'd learnt over and over. 

''Discreet but stylish, I've sent for an automated car, a limo would've been too much...'' You got out your own car, slamming the door and walking up to the glass building. ''He's arriving at 10 am sharp, have an ensemble of sushi for lunch by 12:30 in his own room, and call the car back out for him at 4pm.'' 

It'd just passed 6 am by the time you swiped through the doors, and you turned all the lights on around the reception to set up.   
You placed the few copies of his schedule that you were to give to him on the corner of the desk, printed the night before as to let the ink settle and not be able to stain, replaced the vase of flowers with a fresh, specially picked out bouquet of pure white flowers- all roses- with a single bright blue flower in the centre. You worried that roses were a little cliché, but you did quite like the look of them. 

You did a last minute check of the paper he was to take. You'd made sure to print it glossy on thicker paper, but not quite card. Otherwise you'd kept it that same simple and stylish aesthetic; white with off-black, grey titles and pale blue descriptions. These pamphlets also listed the company's logo, and your name and mobile number should he need anything.   
The decision to put your number down was one that took you a while to come to, worrying it was a little risqué. After consulting your unenthused colleagues, and thinking for a rather long while, you figured it wasn't a crime to put it down should he need it. You'd also written 'work', not 'mobile', just to try to keep things somewhat ambiguous. 

Doing a last minute clean of the rather giant reception, you turned on the inside waterfall that was flush against the marble wall, and casually sprayed your own perfume around the room to give it some kind of niceness.    
You'd finally sat down at 6:45, checking over the phone numbers for the car service and the caterers, glancing at your open laptop and the article you were last reading about this Kamski.  
The article featured a picture of the man, which had this strange complacency to it you couldn't quite pinpoint. He was pale, with not a single hair out of place, almost a mimicry of his creations. What got to you, you thought, was his eyes. They were frozen over; almost a white blue. You thought in your head about the phrase 'God made man in his image', and wandered over photos of him next to his android creations. You shuddered, closed the pages and looked up at the door as it turned 7. 

The first colleague of yours to walk through the door was Audrey, a really nice girl who worked on one of the upper floors. She smelt especially nice today and smiled at you as she commented on the flowers.   
Second, third and forth were some of the men that worked on the med floors, busying around with coffees and crumbly pastries in that hand that you made a mental note to hoover up after quickly once they passed.   
  
At around half past, some more patrons who were to conduct the meetings with Mr Elijah came in, visibly sweating and checking the papers in their hands over and over. You asked if they'd like a copy of Kamski's schedule, few said no thanks, a couple just took pictures of it as to not mess up your pile. You were actually quite thankful for this. You also find it funny to note absolutely every person due to deal with this man today were freaking the fuck out about it. It put you at ease. 

In hindsight, getting to work so early with little breakfast that you only ate in your car to avoid bringing any odours or crumbs into the reception area was starting to feel like a mistake, as you had two and a half hours left until he arrived and you were already starting to falter. 

  
The 'excitement' of the whole thing made you forget you did actually have a job, and still had to deal with other coming and goings of clients in the morning. This routine of smiling, pointing to the sofas in the room, and dialling up whichever office was supposed to deal with this particular client went on until about 8:45, where you'd officially reached a block. 

Though you really didn't want to, you snuck up a floor to the break room to grab some coffee, casually risking your profession by refusing to drink it at your seat, just incase anything happens that would involve frantic cleaning. It was just before 9 by the time you'd finished, and you made sure to follow it up with as many tabs of mint chewing gum as you could, that you chewed as you went back down to your station. 

  
Once back, you called for the car, you'd agreed with yourself that you should send it out early incase he'd like to arrive early. And the beauty of these still relatively new, albeit expensive, automated vehicles was that there was no demand or necessity, so you could have a car in waiting with no consequence. 

The last thing you had to do was just the remaining checks, and you spent a good 10 minutes fiddling with what music to play on the speakers. It was quiet anyway, but you felt it mattered. After some slight panicking, you went for some muted lo-fi. It was a very strange choice, but stuck out from classical. 

Your boss came through the doors, nodding to you and glancing around the place. 

''Nice work, you got everything on task?''

You tilted your head as you answered. ''Schedule is there, please take one- though I emailed it to you anyway. Car's already been sent out, food's been taken care of. Just up to you now.''

He scoffed, taking one of the papers and disappearing up the elevator. 

~

At about 9:47, he arrived. 

You'd literally just done a final check over how you and the room looked, when the large doors opened.  
Your head snapped towards the entrance, standing up in your seat as he walked in.   
Only slightly taller than you in your heels, sporting a very tightly fitting short sleeved black t-shirt, tucked into slender grey jeans and held together with a chunky belt.   
He carried with him in his calloused hand his jacket, very Swedish and modern, also a shade of grey.   
You walked forward, smiling but not extending a hand to shake, as you'd noticed in interviews he wasn't the type to.   
You continued to notice more details about him, like his brown hair, very slightly wavy, but long-  tied up in a ponytail, with an undercut.   
He sported glasses, balancing eloquently on the bridge of his nose.

''Welcome, Mr Kamski. My name is _______, I'm the secretary for the building.'' You spoke warmly, but with no personal inflection. 

''Your first meeting will be in the _Rouge Room_ , on floor 8. Mr Cerulli will be down shortly to escort you. I've printed your schedule for you, here. May I take your coat?''

His cool eyes flicked up at you, almost with studious intent, and it made you shift slightly in your place. 

''Yes, thank you.'' He wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning. You took his coat anyway with a courteous nod, hanging it up swiftly behind the reception desk. 

''Please, make yourself comfortable. Would you like a drink at all?''

Elijah shook his head, placing himself down on one of the sofas, crossing his leg. His focus was on the schedule in his hand, and you took this distracted opportunity to head back to your desk and quickly page Cerulli to come down.

''Tell me, Miss...'' He glanced down at the paper to catch your surname, written alongside your number. ''Why doesn't this company use android technology yet?''

You were almost caught off guard. You didn't expect him to talk to you at all, let alone ask a question as almost _personal_ as that. This man, this CEO, had just asked as to why you were still in a job. A slightly irritated pang hit you, but you knew to stay professional. 

''Androids are in early stages yet, and aren't cost effective.'' You raised your eyes at him from your desk, not fully lifting your head to face him. ''It would be simply too unreliable, for a company like this.''

Quite satisfied with your answer, you went back to staring at your laptop. You truly weren't staring at anything, but you just needed to look busy. You heard a very quiet 'huh' come from in front of you, and you tried to hide a smirk. 

Two more minutes went by without your colleague turning up, and you were starting to grow slightly madder with the lack of professionalism. You'd literally spent the entire week busting your ass to pull this off, and it seemed nobody else gave a fuck. You paged again, when your mobile phone rang.   
You winced, almost feeling your business ethic fall through the floor, but quickly glanced again at Kamski, who seemed entirely unbothered. He was actually staring at his own phone, no doubt wondering the quickest way out of this office.   
You swallowed hard and answered, not letting it ring long.   
A harsh dial tone sounded, the call dropping before you had the chance to speak.   
Kamski looked up.

''So it is your personal phone number.'' He stood, just as the elevator dinged. ''It's not good to lie, Miss _______.'' 

Your somewhat mortified expression left unfaltering as he smacked his phone against his palm lightly, and turned his attention to your bumbling workmate falling out the elevator and rushing apologies.

You were just left at your desk, eyes fixed on your phone screen and the most recent number missed.   
_What just happened._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay right i did intend for this to be a oneshot but i was taking so long with it i felt super guilty so ive decided to split it up a bit so at least i have /something/ posted  
> also this fic sent me into an existential crisis about kamski's entire timeline,,, so his look is a mix of promo vid early kamski and dbh retired zen kamski asdfghjk im so sorry
> 
> t hank you for bearing with me aaa


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is getting traction! thank you!!  
> writing this fic has sent me into a spiral of kamski theories omg
> 
> EDIT: HOL YFU J OK I STARTED THIS CHAPTER ON THE 26TH OF JUNE, WROTE ABT 2K WORDS, THEN DISAPPEARED???????????? I AM S O SORRY. IM SO SORRY OMG.  
> Thank you so so so so much for everyone who's read this regardless!!

 

The time you'd had whilst he'd been on the upper floors had allowed you to process, kinda, what had occurred an hour ago. 

It was about 11:27 now, and you'd tried busing yourself by making a start on the lunch preparations.   
You'd left one of the girls from the lower floors take over your station, telling her very briefly what it is she had to say and point to when people walked in. There wasn't anybody else booked in for today, seeing as the schedule needed to be free for Mr Kamski, so you weren't worried about any potential problems.   
  
  
You'd booked out an office room, one of the nicer ones on the seventh floor, for 2 hours. This was purely a precaution- you weren't counting on him taking that long. Nevertheless, you'd asked for this room to be especially cleaned, to which it was. The layout was similar to the reception, grey stone walls and white decor. A long, marble table occupied the space horizontally, similar to that of _The Last Supper_. You made sure to lay an azure silk table cloth down the centre, and swan folded napkins. Seeing as the centred meal was sushi, you'd channeled some minimalist Japanese place settings to accompany the setting. A single china plate sat in front of the only chair at the table, housing a neatly packed pair of chopsticks by it. You'd kept the rest empty for the caterers to actually place down the food, a special delicate selection of yours out the 50 different types of sushi you now knew. 

You had made sure to have the caterers in by 12:15, allowing you enough time to freshen up the room the best of your ability, playing the same classic, gentle lo-fi music on the speakers in the corners of the office. You nodded a quick thanks to the caterers as it neared half past and they were finishing setting up the rather impressive assortment of amazingly colourful food, and you left the room to take the elevator up to the meeting he was currently in.   
  
The soft _ding_ of the lift faded as your heels clopped across the floor, not hearing any commotion from inside the boardroom. This was concerning, and you frowned as you knocked firmly against the door. Mr Thomas, the unfortunate new employee who'd been tasked with dealing with him first, opened the oak with an alarmingly quick swing, visibly sweating. There was a shake in his voice.

''Y-Yes..?''

There was a hint of sympathy in your eyes, quickly clouded by your focus of the task at hand.

''I'm here to take Mr Kamski to lunch, as per the schedule.''

Not once did you lose composure, despite watching this man's stress level literally rise in front of you. You feared he was about to explode, and quickly dismissed him to walk into the room.   
Elijah was sat the same way he was downstairs, quite casually leant back with his leg crossed over his knee. You could very easily sense how bored he was, eyes lolling across the weakly projected schematics on the wall ahead. You definitely weren't interrupting anything.

''Mr Kamski, if you'd like to follow me for lunch, please.''

Those same cool eyes rolled to your direction, eyeing you up before standing and following you out the door, not saying anything to Thomas as he left. This struck you as a little odd, and you'd now imagined your coworker was probably going to lock himself in and cry in the office.   
Shaking that off, you continued to the elevator, making sure to press the button but let him go first, rapidly hitting the 'close door' button once both inside. 

You kept your head high and forward in the lift, almost feeling like you _should_ say something. You couldn't pry about the topics of the meeting, and it'd be strange to make forced casual discussion, so you remained quiet. You wondered if maybe he'd try to talk to you? Usually, the conversation starter would be the food, but you'd written all of that out, down to the dressings and china to be served on, on the paper.   
  
After a very quiet ride you felt bad for, you led him to the adorned room to which the food waited. There really was only one placemat, and you walked ahead to pull his chair out, and pour two glasses. One was whisky, the other high grade sparkling water. It was pushing 1pm but you still weren't sure what was considered acceptable drinking hours, so you made sure to have the option open if necessary. You'd seen he drank, whiskey especially. There was something in you that wanted to match the drink to the food, but you figured going with a favourite and a pallet cleanser would suffice. 

You took a step back, hands interlocked with each other behind your back as you announced what was on each plate.   
By the time you'd tilted your head to his direction you jumped slightly in your place; as he'd been staring straight into your face the whole time.   
You broke eye contact quickly, lightly clearing your throat and preparing to leave the room when he stopped you. 

''No, wait.''

Begrudgingly, you faced him again, blinking. 

''Why did you pick, _sushi_ of all things?'' 

An unreadable expression crossed your face as you thought to answer. You could've blamed this decision off on your boss, especially considering the accusatory tone. 

''You are not an easy man to find for, Mr Kamski. I did the best I could, tailoring the decor for today on what I gathered from the few interviews you have scattered around the internet.''

A quiet chuckle came from him, returning his gaze to the rainbow platter.

''You chose very well, I have to say.'' There was a glint in his eye. ''Maybe you should work for _me_.''

This came, not as a joking suggestion, or as a suggestion at all. It came as a demand. Something that made you deeply uncomfortable, yet strangely excited. 

''In one morning, you've put together more pieces and fragments of who I am, that you've personally found in say- a week, than most my staff have with _years_ of working with me.'' 

The tone of his voice felt almost _intimate_ , forcing you to swallow hard as you stood.

''I mean- look at this.'' He slapped your schedule against the table, slightly crumpling the edges. ''... _A tuna temaki served on an authentic 2018 class Kyo Karakusa plate_?''

You turned fully to look at him, hands still interlocked behind you as you met him with a vacant stare. 

''I don't care, about any of this.'' Pausing intentionally, the alluring tone of his voice made your eyebrow twitch in annoyance. ''Yet you still thought to include it.''

Elijah stood up, circling the wide table while tracing his fingers across the marble, drawing closer to where you forced yourself to stand. 

''That's professionalism. More importantly, _dedication_. A very rare and valuable asset, wasted on such a corporately-ran block like this.''

Your eyes flicked up to meet his inquisitive gaze. 

''Kamski, _sir_ , I'm not one for backhanded compliments. I chose this position at this firm knowing full well what I'm capable of, and what I enjoy. I'd appreciate, while pseudo-passively giving me your recruitment spiel, you didn't undermine my conscious choices as a fully functioning adult.'' 

Blue eyes, you'd always thought, had a transparency to them. A strange coldness that felt empty, regardless of the person they belonged to. Absolutely they could be beautiful, but they lacked that warmth and compassion the more earthy tones like greens and browns had. You'd said this in passing, or to yourself, and never thought it too in depth- up until this moment; where you stood _vulnerable_ in a cool, desolate room of your own instruction, alone with a preying individual of similar tone. You felt almost as if you'd dug your own grave, as if you could die in this room right here at any second.

You were interrupted by a low chuckle, the sound resonating from much closer to you than previously, as he closed in.

''This is _comfortable_ , for you. And that's not necessarily a good thing.'' He leant against the table, an uncharacteristically muscly pale forearm propping him up from under his quarter rolled sleeve. ''You're intelligent and proficient, and you know that. You're the most organized out this entire building.''

Your face took a sour look, near sneering in response.

''This is the only conversation I've had with you, and I've spoken twice. You don't know who I am, or anything about my life. None of this is some 'hidden motive' either, everything I got off you was from _Google_ in a total of about 2 days. You're too ambitious, Elijah.''

You turned your head back towards the door, itching to leave as he spoke up again.

''I know. That's what got me founding _CyberLife_. That's why I'm _Man of the Year_ , and why I'm here in talks of buying this company.''

You flinched, making a conscious effort to not look at him as you felt those same calloused hands rest on your shoulders, not aggressively, but still with an overbearing heat. 

''It really would be a shame for someone with such an amazing attention to detail such as yourself to be out of a job when this place goes under. Trust me when I say, I'm only trying to help you.''

It wasn't in your job description to be manhandled. You half-twirled, brushing his hands off your shoulders, just for him to swiftly place them on your waist instead. This earned another uncomfortable gulp from you, flittering downwards to study his porcelain skin against the noir fabric of your skirt. 

''Very clever of you to order food that couldn't go cold.''

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god again im literally so sorry i took nearly a month to update and it's this short  
> i just finished 2yrs of college and im RIGHT NOW moving so pls, , ,,bear with me omg. thank u to everyone again who's read this and given this kudos regardless, i super super appreciate it and i promise im racked with guilt to update everytime i get a notification .   
> fdhdkjsklk THANK U ILY <33


End file.
